“This one is from Cairo.” Gretchen had to squint to make out the lettering on the worn stickers. “Another from London.”
She glanced at her aunt. Nina was pale and leaned against the display case. “What came out of the trunk?” she said to her. “A bat?”
“No, not even close.” She patted her hair down with both hands and eyed the trunk suspiciously. “You’re going to laugh at me.”
“No we won’t,” Gretchen said.
“Yes, you will.”
Caroline crossed her arms and scowled. Gretchen closed the trunk lid and waited.
“I came up here to look around like you asked me to, Caroline, to give you design ideas. The trunk was right over there where you found it, Gretchen, but it was closed. When I came in the room, I thought something inside of it called out to me.”
“Like what?” Gretchen asked. “Like, ‘Nina, oh, Nina’?”
“You’re laughing.”
“No, I’m not. I believe you.”
One time, when Gretchen had ignored her aunt’s warnings, brushing them off as fanciful imaginings, Nina had almost been killed trying to prove herself.
Gretchen would never laugh at her aunt’s antics again. If nothing else, Nina added a little more spice to the already flavorful southwestern atmosphere. This, though, was the first time inanimate objects had spoken to her.
“Okay then.” Nina finished arranging her wayward hair into a semblance of her bob, jeweled fingers fluttering. “I heard something like an ‘ooooohhh’ coming from the area around the trunk. As I went closer, I discovered that the sound was coming from inside it. The sound was like someone moaning or like the wind howling.”
Gretchen and Caroline exchanged glances.
“I opened the trunk. What a mistake.” She sighed heavily and let her breath rasp out. “Then,” she said, animated now, the actress in her coming to the surface, “a ghost flew out of it, right into my face and through my body like I didn’t exist. It was like a billow of smoke. For a second I thought I was a goner. But here I am.”
Gretchen gaped.
“I don’t know what to say,” Caroline said slowly.
Loud sputtering laughter came from behind them.
April stood in the doorway. “Ha, ha, ho, ho, hee, hee.”
Gretchen was about to lose control, too. “April,” she warned, holding back her own belly laugh, “you have to stop.”
“Hee-hee, haw-haw. I know, I know. I’m trying.” April pulled a tissue from a pocket and blew her nose. “What if you released a genie?” she said, cracking up again. “Wouldn’t that be sweet? We better find it and get our three wishes. Oh, this is rich.”
“It frightened me almost to death,” Nina said, offended. “Even Tutu saw it. She ducked behind some boxes, and I dove for the floor and crawled under the display case as fast as I could. That’s when I got stuck.”
That set April off again.
Caroline attempted to hide a smile, but it finally got the best of her and she let loose and joined April.
“This isn’t funny,” Nina said.
“All I can see in my mind is you stuck under the case,” April screeched.
“I’m so happy I was able to entertain you,” Nina snapped. “But something real flew out of that doll trunk, and I’m going to find out what it was.”
“Nina,” Caroline said, attempting to get serious, “we have enough to do without chasing after ghosts. Quit trying to make life more complicated than it already is. Let’s get the luncheon over with and the museum ready for the opening. Then you can chase ghosts.”
“I’m not sure that’s the best advice.” Gretchen wasn’t about to let this opportunity get away. What a great way to keep Nina busy and away from the play production. “We’ll be spending a lot of time at the museum, and we wouldn’t want to share space with a malicious spirit, would we? I think it’s important that Nina pursue this.”
“I plan to.” Nina was back in form. “Ghosts are real,” she said. “I just overreacted to its appearance because I wasn’t prepared. I’m going to the New Age shop for more information.”
“Good idea,” Gretchen said.
“But I already know a little something about the subject of ghosts,” Nina continued. “We need to be alert for strange sounds or weird smells.”
“Lights going on and off,” Gretchen added.
“Blasts of cold air.” Nina had a glint in her eyes. This was her kind of problem. “Objects moving. Someone has unfinished business on earth, and I’m going to find out what it is.”
8
Caroline steps from the car. Matt Albright waits in front of the police station to escort her inside. He has impeccable manners-opening doors for her, offering coffee, performing the obligatory small talk. How have you been? How’s Nina? By the way, you have a beautiful daughter with a matching soul.
He scores extra points for mentioning Gretchen’s inner beauty.
Caroline is sure he feels the same as she does under the circumstances, uncomfortable because of their personal relationship, wanting to get the unpleasant task over with as quickly as possible.
The mother and the boyfriend size each other up.
“After you,” he says, showing her into a room.
She doesn’t really want to know the truth, so why did she make the call to the detective? Out of a sense of truth and justice? Yes. But also out of fear.
He leaves her alone. A large mirror on the wall shows her that her face is as pale as her silver hair. Is it a two-way mirror? Is someone on the other side?
She sits down at a square table in the middle of the room and rakes her silver hair with her fingers, thinking of her daughter. Two nuts from the same black walnut tree, her husband used to say when he was alive. Before the fatal car accident that took him but thankfully left her daughter physically unharmed. She hopes the emotional scars have faded if not totally healed. Gretchen assures her they have, but her daughter’s nightmares tell Caroline the truth.
God, she misses him. Nothing could ever make up for her loss. Nobody, anywhere, could replace that man. Gretchen reminds her so much of him, although everyone else says mother and daughter resemble each other. They have the same strong build, but her daughter has her father’s inquisitive mind, boldly taking on and dealing with life’s hardships, sometimes acting a little too impulsively for her own good.
Matt comes back into the room with two cups of coffee. He’s nothing at all like his chatty mother, Bonnie. He’s secretive and cautious.
The detective sits across from her at the scarred table in the shabby room with tired furniture and bad lighting. A manila file folder lies between them.
“How did she die?” Caroline asks, the word tumbling out beyond her control.
Matt doesn’t answer her question. “You don’t have to do this, you know?” he says, but she can tell that he’s eager for anything that might assist him in his search.
They have the same strong sense of justice.
“What if I’m right?” she says. “You need to know as quickly as possible to catch whoever did this.”
“What if you’re wrong? Either way, it isn’t necessary that you be the one to identify her. Give me a name and I’ll track down the family. It will be easy to find out if it’s the woman you think it is. Just give me a name.”
Caroline shakes her head. “I don’t want to be responsible for an incorrect identification. I don’t want to intrude on the wrong family’s life. Please, it’s important to me to make sure.” She glances up at the mirror. “I’ve never done this before, identified someone.”
“It takes some getting used to.”
“Will we go into the morgue?”
Matt grins, but not with his eyes. “No. I have pictures.”
She wants to take a sip of her coffee from the foam cup he has placed in front of her, but she knows that her hand will shake. That’s the tip-off. She might look calm on the outside, but the way she handles a coffee cup will reveal the opposite. Hers would slosh back and forth. She’d spill it.